


Willing to Serve

by Chakramancerrr



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blow Jobs, Conflict of Interests, Dubious Consent, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Massage, Smoking, Vaginal Fingering, hints of D/s, horns for handles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chakramancerrr/pseuds/Chakramancerrr
Summary: Galvatron has a tension headache and Cyclonus does what is asked of him to soothe it.





	Willing to Serve

Galvatron leaned over his desk with a grimace on his faceplate. His arms had been folded to prop his frame up. The lighting was dimmed lower than usual to keep from straining his optics further. At least in this area of the ship he could get some quiet.

He takes his servo and rubs his forehelm, squeezing his temples slightly and repeating. It helped somewhat although his helm still pounded. The Decepticon leader was no stranger to pain and he took it well. He straightened up as he heard some pede falls beyond his door.

"Do not disturb me." Galvatron barked.

"It is I, Cyclonus." A voice spoke from beyond the door. "I have sensed you are feeling under the weather. Allow me to help."

Galvatron paused to think a moment. He hadn't presumed that Cyclonus would have been the one to come knocking. He usually knew when he wished to be left alone. Even in his current state he trusted the judgement of his most loyal solider.

"Very well. Come in." Galvatron replied.

The door slid open and Cyclonus entered. His silhouette lingered in the doorway before it closed behind him. He noticed the low lighting as he made his way over to Galvatron. He tread lightly, hoping that his desire to soothe his master would not offend him.

"If it is your helm that aches, perhaps I can attempt to relive some tension." Cyclonus offered, daring to get closer to the other mech.

Galvatron said nothing but nodded. Cyclonus understood this was a prideful mech's way of accepting help. He walked behind Galvatron's desk and slowly brought his servos to the sides of Galvatron's helm, lightly running over his plating. Galvatron remained silent but this did not bother Cyclonus. If he had done anything to worsen the pain Gravatron would be shouting at him. He presses the pads of his thumbs into Galvatron's temples and began rubbing in slow circles. 

Galvatron tilts his helm back with his optics pressed closed, a subtle hint that Cyclonus' technique was working. He takes his time with this and then begins to massage the mech's neck. Galvatron tolerated this for a moment. He honestly could have enjoyed it, however it was not doing anything to help the dull ache in his helm.

"The pain is not in my neck. It is simply a tension headache." Galvatron grumbled.

Cyclonus noted that his leader was lethargic and less prone to snapping than usual. Perhaps he lacked the energy to be his cantankerous self. He knew that trying to ask Galvatron what was making him tense in the first place would be like trying to open a hornet's nest. He refocused his ministrations upon Galvatron's helm without a word. He would do anything to help Galvatron. 

"I think I know a little trick that may provide me the relief I so crave." Galvatron uttered.

"And what would that be?" Cyclonus asked, his servos stilling as he listens.

"Bringing me to overload." Galvatron answered.

Cyclonus was surprised at this request. He never thought his master would ask this of him. He knew he had to tread carefully from this point forwards as he did not want to disappoint someone he admired so much. If he did not satisfy Galvatron's needs he may not get to have such an opportunity again. He responded to Galvatron's proposition with great composure.

"How would you wish me to service you, Lord Galvatron." Cyclonus asks, bowing his helm slightly.

"Allow me to turn my seat around and get on your knees for me." Galvatron spoke. 

Cyclonus did what was asked of him, taking a stride back and kneeling down. He waits as Galvatron turns his chair to face him. From here his frame looked even more impressive, his tall stature complimented by the angle. He always had an optic for Galvatron's strong, thick frame. He enjoyed the look of his helm adornments, their look made him appear virile to Cyclonus. There was also something about his chin plating that he liked. This was a sight for Cyclonus to behold, his leader looked ever so dominant even while feeling off. 

"What are you waiting for? Give me a working up." Galvatron ordered, looking down at Cyclonus.

Cyclonus maintained his stoic disposition, reaching his servos to stroke Galvatron's metallic thighs. He wasn't sure if he were doing this out of instinct or out of his own desire to have a feel. Galvaron's engine revved softly in response. Cyclonus indulged himself rubbing his servos along Galvatron's thighs though this time daring to move closer to his interface. 

Just as Cyclonus was pondering pressing a kiss to his inner thigh Galvatron placed his servo beneath Cyclonus' chin, pulling his faceplate upwards. He then inserts his thumb into his mouth to pry it open. Cyclonus relaxed his jaw and flattened his glossa for Galvatron's digit. This sensation made Galvatron forget about the pain in his helm for the moment. He replaced his thumb with two of his digits, fragging Cyclonus' mouth with them. Cylonus' servos squeeze tighter on Galvatron's thighs. His own internal temperature rising from the thought of putting his mouth on his master's spike.

Galvatron opened his panel with a click, his thick purple spike emerging. He allows himself to pressurize more fully before Cyclonus' optics. A smirk in response to the look of adoration from Cyclonus. Galvatron needn't say a word. Cyclonus took his spike into his mouth as soon as he withdrew his digits. He concentrates his efforts to lavish his spike, knowing that this will provide much needed pain relief.

He feels Galvatron's servo on the back of his helm, guiding him to take the spike deeper. He does so without protest. The thoughts wandering through his head only serve to arouse him further. Cyclonus knees shake as he can feel his valve lubricating. He doesn't wish for this to interfere with what he's doing to he attempts not to show it. 

"I can feel your frame warming up." Galvatron rumbles.

Cyclonus isn't able to respond verbally but Galvatron can see that his servo is cupping his panel as if attempting to hold it closed. He chuckles with amusement.

"You have nothing to hide so long as I get to watch." Galvatron tells him. "Show me."

Cyclonus banishes any sense of embarassment he feels and opens his panel quickly. He is releived to know that Galvatron is interested in watching him service himself. Cyclonus takes his servo and begins to stroke the outer folds his valve with the pads of his digits. This was done not to show off but to take care of his needs.

Galvatron was exited by the genuine need exibited by Cyclonus. His processor was running as hot as his engine. He watched Cyclonus lick the tip of his spike and take it back into his mouth. He moans lowly as his optics shut for a second, completely focused on pleasure. 

Galvartron's servos wander over Cyclonus' helm. His EM field resonates the gratitude he knows not how to show. His digits find Cyclonus' horns and grip them. He uses this to control the pace, making Cyclonus move his mouth along his spike much faster and rougher.

There's an ocassional grunt uddered by Galvatron as he begins to overload. He holds Cyclonus' horns tight as he floods his mouth with hot transfluid. Cyclonus quickly swallows down this offering, continuing to suck for a few seconds more before he's let go.

Cyclonus breathes heavy for a moment, his servo still moving eagerly between his legs. He's not sure if he will be dismissed or not. Though it felt too good to stop stroking his clitoral node. 

"You have done so well I ... need a cygar." Galvatron spoke, his voice lower than normal. He rustles around in his desk to find the cygar and then brings it to his lips. Galvatron then settles back against his chair, making himself more comfortable.

"Spread you legs a little wider. I want to watch." Galvatron orders.

Cyclonus follows instructions. He decides to reposition himself so that he is lying on his back with his legs apart so that Galvatron has a better view. He returns to the fervent rubbing of his node. He's well teased from before so that his digits slip inside easily. They become slick with fluids as he works them in and out. His back arches, eager to show off for his master. Galvatron looked on with an expression of approval.

Cyclonus' digits began to slow as they pressed in deeply, his thumb rubbing against his node. He moans Galvatron's name lowly. His hips jerk, making his back arch higher as he overloads hard from his own teasing. Lubricants spill out of his valve and make a pattern on the floor. 

"A lovely show." Galvatron spoke huskily, some smoke from his cygar wafting from his intake


End file.
